Dark Influence
by Dawn of Chaos
Summary: Xehanort isn't one to let opportunities and goals slip past him. Oh no, he's far too stubborn for that. Feelings have nothing to do with it, or so he thinks, as he's sure to take advantage of each asset at his disposal. Even if it means dragging someone into the darkness with him.


Stop his experiments? Never, it doesn't matter whether Ansem says to or not. There's no way he'll ever give up what he's been working so hard to achieve. He'll do whatever it takes even if it means cutting Ansem out of the picture. Frustrated, he slams his hands down onto the large keyboard. His amber eyes glare at the computer monitor when in reality he's doing so at the supposedly wise man that dismissed every finding he's uncovered.

Not to meddle with hearts anymore. Not to disturb the balance. That the end doesn't justify the means. To give it up now.

He scoffs as he spins around. A tanned hand reaches up, brushing up through his silver hair. The heels of his ebony boots clack loudly against the floor as he makes his way to the office. The second he enters the circular room he turns back to knock against the wall to make the fake portion slide back down. His eyes survey the area and is pleased to see that Ansem hasn't come back for the night, meaning he can take all the time he likes.

He strides over to the large desk and drops a folder onto it. The loud slap doesn't elicit so much as a flinch out of him. A thought crosses his mind and he can't help but toy with it. The brown chair behind the desk seemingly calls out to him and he doesn't waste another second. The white lab coat scrunches up around his waist as he sits down in what he knows should be his office to begin with.

Something about it feels comfortable, empowering, and invigorating. He knows if he were the one that regularly sat here that the experiments would continue without a hitch. Everything would go according to plan and he'd be the overseer of it all. He hums in thought to himself as he leans his right elbow onto the armrest before promptly leaning his head on his upraised hand.

The door makes no noise as it opens just a crack, one that allows a young man to slip through and into the room. He's dressed like all of the other scientists, including Xehanort. From the purple ascot about his neck to the white coat that covers his black pants, boots, and shirt. However, Xehanort doesn't move a muscle. "What is it, Ienzo?"

Said man glances about the room as he strides over to the desk. The veil of light, slate colored hair that hangs over the right side of his countenance sways with the each movement. At least until he comes to a stop at the desk and proceeds to keep his voice low just in case anyone that shouldn't be up happens upon them. "You should go to bed."

"Why is that?"

"Some people turn into monsters without their beauty sleep."

A small smirk dares to crawl onto Xehanort's face, although he quickly swats it away. And Ienzo becomes aware that he'll get nowhere with that conversation. Instead he directs his piercing, sapphire gaze to the vanilla folder on the desk and then to Xehanort himself. "What are you doing?"

"It's none of your concern."

"Then there's nothing wrong in calling it a night if I'm here."

Even sitting down, Xehanort still towers over Ienzo. The shorter man can't dare tear his eyes away. No, he has to watch every flicker of movement Xehanort makes as he rises to his feet. The motion isn't fast to begin with but it feels like an eternity to Ienzo. One strong hand darts out and grabs at the ascot around his neck.

Xehanort gives a tug and forces Ienzo to reach out, bracing his hands on the edge of the desk. Their faces are only inches apart when Xehanort raises one eyebrow in a sly manner. "What will you do if I don't, Ienzo?"

His voice is unwavering, but inside, Ienzo is melting under the tarnished gold gaze. "You know very well what I'm capable of."

"Then shall we make a deal?"

"Go on."

That miniscule space between them vanishes as Xehanort crashes his lips against Ienzo's. The succulent taste of lust has their mouths sealed together. However, Ienzo keeps his hands from reacting; resisting the urge to grasp onto Xehanort and pull their bodies as close as the desk between them will allow. He knows what's going to come next. This is how their nightly meetings evolve from banter to a greedy need they have for one another; what they can do for each other in more ways than just one.

That underneath every touch, this is the only _normal_ part of their lives. The only part that is allowed to slip from their control where nothing else matters; nothing like wanting to be in charge or the desire to have someone care.

Ienzo is the first to pull away with a sharp turn of the head. He lifts his right hand to brush his fingers over his damp lips. It's a coy move and one that Xehanort doesn't dare overlook. He responds by showing who decides matters between them by turning his gaze away. The silver haired man has no problem allowing Ienzo to _think_ he has some form of control, but they both know the younger man has always been drawn towards him.

Although at first it was mere suspicion.

Not that Xehanort hasn't. There's always been a sliver of his own mind that wanders and yearns for Ienzo. From the guarded blue eyes to that calming shade of blue hair. It's why he sits down in the large, desk chair with his hands on the arm rests. He beckons Ienzo to move and the latter can do only that.

It's a furtive movement that doesn't dare pander to the man. The steps are crushingly slow and it makes the smirk shrink away from Xehanort's lips. To the point where it dares to turn into a snarl if it takes much longer. Then again, Ienzo is a curious young man and he always dares to push the limits.

Just as Xehanort's fingers are grasping at the slick leather of the chair, Ienzo is before him. It pleases Xehanort, squashing the frustration, while the man reaches up and pushes the lab coat from Ienzo's shoulders. It lands on the ground with a muted plop and is soon followed by the damnable ascot.

Ienzo steps away from them without so much as a flicker in his gaze. He's alluring in ways that Xehanort can't place. Which is why he can't stop the possessiveness that is weaved into each move he makes. He forcefully draws Ienzo forward to the point where knees have to press into the chair on the sides of Xehanort's legs.

The game before the main event has always been something he enjoys. One arm wraps securely around Ienzo's waist as he brings the younger closer. Their lips collide in a bruising kiss that has a small sound muffling against Xehanort's mouth. Only when their together does Xehanort hear the boy make the most noise. It's as if it's only for his ears to hear and that thought makes it harder to resist slipping that hand down to grab at Ienzo's rear.

Slender hands, far more delicate than Xehanort's, grasp at the vest beneath his coat. Those fingers claw into the fabric as Ienzo presses back into the kiss. That is, before he quickly breaks it off so he can sit up, the only time he'll be able to look down at the man. Xehanort reaches his other hand up to cup at Ienzo's chin, the pad of his thumb brushing over his bottom lip.

The surprisingly gentle touch is all it takes for a shiver to race up and then back down Ienzo's spine. The male melts underneath each and every brush of fingers that follows; Down his jaw and neck, over his shirt, teasing the hem and then slipping beneath it. Xehanort revels in the way Ienzo's breath becomes shallow and his eyes dare to slip close. It's then that he'll give the other a nip on his neck, forcing those lashes to flutter back open.

"Xehanort..." he whispers down at him, barely able to be heard over their rapidly beating hearts.

The way his name rolls off the man's tongue has Xehanort tempting him further. The heat between Ienzo's legs is met with his palm. Ienzo sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth and resists the urge to buck into that awaiting hand. He refuses to give the satisfaction, even if that means Xehanort replies back by snatching his lips into another kiss.

It's quick and hardly gentle – the perfect prelude. Rough fingers grab at his hips and they dig into his skin even through the material. Xehanort, despite seeming to be an ordinary scientist, is able to easily lift Ienzo up off his lap. The latter tries to make the move easier but it's pointless. Xehanort is far more accustomed to man-handling his lean body, especially as his back meets with the desk.

Panic etches into his cerulean eyes and Xehanort catches onto the feeling. He waits, patiently even, as the man beneath him squirms and draws his palms up to press against Xehanort's chest. Ienzo doesn't care to sully this room and surely not the desk where his adoptive-father does his work. But those golden eyes are boring into him with such an intensity that he knows he can't leave without an answer to the silent question.

"Let's go somewhere more fitting for.. _this_."

Xehanort won't give up, not while he wants to devour the younger man right here and now. Like hell he'll wait for the man to lead him through the never ending halls to either of their rooms. "We've done it everywhere else, what more is a desk?"

"What about An-"

A hand grinds between his legs, silencing the name before it can finish as Ienzo grits his teeth to stifle the moan before it can escape. Xehanort's eyes settle into a glare, daring Ienzo to finish his thought and to fight this. Ienzo merely lolls his head to the side. His tresses muss about the desk while his visible eye remains closed. The only answer he'll give is a sigh and his hands moving away from Xehanort's chest. And it's the one Xehanort has been waiting for.

He wastes little time in drawing Ienzo's pants down. The latter helps, but only by lifting his rear to allow it. Both those and his underwear drop to the ground with his coat and he realizes how chilly it can be on a desk with nothing on his lower body. He doesn't have time to think on it as Xehanort is already allowing his own garments to fall down around his ankles. Ienzo peaks under his lashes to see Xehanort poising to enter him. He can feel it as the older man teases him – wanting him to plead for it. But he won't do that – never that.

And it's what Xehanort loves about their nights together. The silence between them is what holds all the answers. His eyes roam all over Ienzo's form, of which is slightly trembling from anticipation. Xehanort leans over him and allows Ienzo to finally each up, wrapping his arms around Xehanort's shoulders. He clings onto them and knots his fingers into the back of the lab coat. The silver haired man busies his lips against the side of Ienzo's neck as he begins to push inside of him. The noise that slips from Ienzo's throat, unhindered and only for him to hear, has Xehanort thrusting suddenly.

Ienzo can't help but arch up against the sturdy body above him. His legs instinctively wrap around Xehanort's waist, not wanting him to pull out even after being handled so roughly. There's a hidden pleasure that he refuses to speak aloud. That he likes it when Xehanort's fingers slip down to grasp onto his hips tight enough to leave bruises. Teeth nipping at the skin along his shoulder follows after and he knows this is why the collars of most of his shirts are stretched. It's the markings he'll see in the morning that make him shiver and curl into the touches now.

Especially when Xehanort's fingers wrap around his manhood and treats it no different than the way their skin slaps together with each buck of Xehanort's hips. Ienzo pinches his eyes shut, reveling in all of the different sensations. At least until Xehanort dips his head down to hover his lips just beside Ienzo's ear.

"Ienzo..."

The husky voice has his eyes opening just in time to lock with golden eyes for a brief moment. Their lips are crashing together in a rough kiss as the momentum of pleasure swelling in their bodies finally reaches it's peak. Any sort of sounds are muffled by their continued kiss until they're finally pulling away – both panting heavily.

This is where the intimacy always ends. Xehanort will pull away and begin to fix his clothes. He leaves Ienzo to come to his senses before beginning to grab for his pants. The younger man is always a little sluggish after and he never does notice the way Xehanort's eyes never leave his body as it moves. Although their eyes do meet once in passing as Ienzo sends him a glare; one that lacks anger.

Ienzo always does seem to be a little more forgiving afterward, this much Xehanort has taken larger note of. There's something about it that makes him want to call him.. cute. Not that he'll dare to at the moment, not when he has serious business to attend to. He watches as Ienzo finally stands, making sure the pants will stay firmly around his waist and the coat is smooth over his form. It's then that he moves forward and reaches for the smaller man.

"You'll continue assisting me in the experiments."

It's not a true question. Nonetheless, Ienzo can't stop the small word from leaving his lips, "Yes." He knows this is foolish. They should stop as Ansem has ordered. But the more Xehanort talks as those fingers reach out to touch him – there's no way he can possibly say no now. Even without their _relationship_ , the curiosity is what helps drive him forward. Forward to the point where he keeps his back to Xehanort while those hands clap down onto his shoulders. They smooth out along his arms before encircling around him.

Ienzo's heart beats loud in his ears, to the point where they might even start ringing. To have Xehanort be so… tender is something he rarely sees. It's usually only after they've laid down in bed and he thinks Ienzo is asleep. It's only then that the tracings of fingers over his stomach and chest come and the man curls him into his arms a little tighter.

The other hand mimics the first, save for slipping up to Ienzo's torso instead. He places one over where Ienzo's heart is with fingertips curling into the fabric just ever-so-slightly. However, the hand at his waist doesn't stay idle. It's moving up towards his face; guiding his head to tilt back while those fingers brush up under the tresses that normally hide a section of his face.

It's only then that Ienzo mumbles his retort, only loud enough for Xehanort's ear, "Yes..." And Xehanort replies by capturing those lips that pander to him.

After all, there's nothing left to say. They've made their choice and the darkness is already eagerly clawing at their ankles – pulling them in deeper until there's no hope of escape. They've come too far now to bother with what's wrong and right. Only how it ends.

* * *

 _Happy (early) Holidays and Merry (early) Christmas to Kitty X3 Love ya girl!_

 _It was a basic plot line lacking meat and the mojo to write it. I found some of that stuff, but I'm not sure it was the right... something. ^^; Enjoy?_


End file.
